The Woods...

Crouched on the stone next to the stream, the
young lad, held onto the railing of the broken down fence, dark wood, just
behind him, to the left, he reached out to the water, trying to catch the
ripple, and then looked up toward the woods, the sky above the tree tops was
gray, with a bit of sunlight, but then the boy blinked because there were
ghosts in the woods, he would see them then not when the wind blew, stirred
things up the leaves, making the trees groan and the stream water coursed a
little faster, and the shadows fluctuated in the woods between the trees, lean
and sinuous like those trees at first the boy frowned but then he relaxed,
considering these imps, the way they moved, it was like watching children at
play, whatnots...
The young woman stood in the middle of the old church, the
roof was half gone, was it the war that shook these rafters, no matter, she
raised her arms up and the people scattered through the pews bowed, their
heads, the front of the church behind the altar, was half gone, there was stain
glass, the faithful few put that up, worked a day or two extra in the fields to
drum up some money to put up that pretty glass, the trees beyond the altar,
were again that sinuous trunks, the dancers, the limbs that wouldn't tell a
lie, leaves fell, and she raised her arms to the sky, palms open upwards, her
gown was white and gray, like an embroidered spider web, she prayed and the
faithful few joined in they were the misery aunts, the support system of any
troubled sapling...